Haunted
by Luxor Nautalis
Summary: The end of Rise of the Lycans in the point-of-views of Sonja, Lucian and Viktor.


DISCLAIMER; I do not own Underworld, or its characters. However, I do own my writing, so please do not steal! =D

AUTHORS NOTE; Let me start out by saying that I absolutely ADORE the Underworld series (though Evolution was little more than horrid...) and Rise of the Lycans is by far my favorite. For a long time, I've been wanting to write the ending in the point of views of the main characters (Lucian, Sonja and Viktor). This, obviously, is Sonja's pov, and I don't think I've ever written something so heartbreaking and emotional. I sincerely hope you enjoy it, and please stay tuned for Lucian and Viktor's point of view! Reviews welcome!

She was afraid. For the first time in her eternal life, she was terrified. And it wasn't because of the sound of werewolves howling beyond the gates of Castle Corvinus, lurking in the shadows of dark, looming wood, and it wasn't because of the dead tone in her father's voice as he uttered the 'Aye' that sealed her fate. There were many things in her life that she should fear. But there was nothing she had ever feared or ever would fear more than the look of desolation on his face; Of lost hope. They both knew there was no escaping, no turning back or second-chances. This was the end of the line. Sonja had only first realized that until this moment. She was a fool to believe they would find a way, and now she was chained what seemed like miles away from her precious Lucian as he waited, on his knees, for the first crack of the whip, his beautiful blue eyes glued to hers.

The first snap rang out in her head, louder than a gun shop fired in a narrow corridor. She watched in slow motion as the silver-tipped weapon descended slower and slower toward his back, hungry for the blood and flesh of the Lycan. As it finally made contact, she cried out, almost in tune with him.

"NO!" She screamed, in a voice she hardly recognized, as if the one word would make them stop.

But her desperate plea fell on deft ears. With every crack of that silver whip, her heart broke. He was so proud, so noble. He shouldn't be degraded to this level. Deftly, she struggled against her bonds, wanting more than anything to run to him, to hold him in her arms and tell him everything would be okay, that they would find a way to be together. Even as each blow landed, he struggled to straighten, struggled to keep the cries of pain from his lips. But every blow came faster and harder than the last, forcing him to just lie, broken and bloodied on the stone of the execution chamber. Dark rivulets of his blood flowed into the cracks in the floor and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father lift his hand. She flinched as the final blow landed and the Elder turned toward her, his gaze boring into her. But she refused to meet his eyes, keeping them locked on the seemingly lifeless form crumpled beneath the feet of an all-too-satisfied Death Dealer.

The audience turned, one by one filing out of the chamber, the loud thud of the door closing behind them echoing in her ears. But her attention remained on him, her sharp eyes catching the small movements that indicated he was still alive; the ragged rise-and-fall of his chest, the twitch of his hand or the small, almost undetectable sound of his whimpers as he tried desperately to keep them hidden. For the first time in what seemed like years, they were alone. Ever so softly, almost as if the sound would bring the monsters she had once called her brethren back, she called his name.

"Lucian." The name she loved came out as nothing more than a breathless gasp.

He straightened, pulling himself once more back onto his knees, gasping with pain as his eyes once more met her own. She didn't know whether or not she should despair at seeing him straighten or scream with joy at seeing his face once more for, while she loved that face more than anyone could ever understand, seeing it meant, she knew, that he would have to watch her own torture, a torture she wouldn't survive. And, after seeing his own brutal beating played out before her eyes, she wanted nothing more than to spare him the pain of seeing her own because she knew, without a doubt, that watching was far, far worse than experiencing.

A single tear trained down her pale face, but a small portion of the sobs she wanted to release. But, she knew that, if she broke down, it would break him. She had to be strong for her beloved. They stared at one another for an eternity, each communicating everything they couldn't say. She could see his self-loathing, his fear, his rage and, above all, his love, and she drew whatever strength she could from it. Until the ominous creak from above drew her eyes upward, and she knew what was coming.

The fear returned to her, knotting her stomach in a vice grip, but it wasn't for herself she feared. It was for their child. Their beautiful, precious child that had never gotten the chance to feel the sunlight on his face, or smell the delicious aroma of newly-sprouted wild flowers after the first of the spring rains. Her beautiful, strong little boy- for she was sure her child was a boy- that would never feel the wind upon his face, or the thrill one got as an enemy fell to their sword. She feared for Lucian. For her strong, confident Lucian who meant more than the world to her.

"No, Sonja, no, just look at me. Keep your eyes on me!" But she couldn't force her eyes away from the ceiling as the creaking grew louder and angrier, the dull sound of the chains rattling in her ears as she shuddered.

"Sonja, look at me!" It was with that one last shout that she finally ripped her gaze away from her coming death, meeting the wide, terror-filled eyes of her beloved Lucian. She trembled, the tears falling freely now before she managed to take a breath in an attempt to steel herself against what she knew was coming.

"I love you..." He spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes pleaded with her, almost in an attempt to force her to understand just how much he did love her, and how much he wished things had turned out differently.

"And I love you," she whispered in return, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. It took every ounce of control she possessed to keep her eyes poised on her lover as the creaking suddenly turned into the clank of dials turning, and she knew her time was short. "Your face will not be here when this is over, will it?" She paused, as if to let him answer, though she knew none would be forthcoming. "Goodbye, my love," She uttered the last words she knew she would ever say to him, almost waiting for the rays of lethal sunlight to wash over her.

Her eyes firmly remained locked to his, even as his flashed to the ceiling in desperation. "No..." The single word came out as nothing more than a whimper, so filled with heartbreak and grief that something broke inside of her.

It was at this moment, the split second before the flames engulfed her and turned her into nothing but ash that all of the best and sweetest moments in her life flashed through her mind. Moments spent with Lucian. She remembered his arms wrapped around her waist as he lay behind her on the cold, hard stone. She remembered the feeling of butterflies in her stomach as he whispered her name, or the brush of his fingers against her own. She remembered the heat of his lips and the way they always made her knees weak, whether they be clashing against her own in the fevered heat of passion, or caressing the nape of her neck in the gentlest of moments. She remembered his intense protectiveness, the worry in his eyes as she bid him a silent farewell, knowing full well that this could be their last stolen glance because tonight could be the night she failed to escape the hungry jaws of the werewolves and, more importantly, she remembered the feel of his hot breath against her cold skin as he made love to her. And it was these moments that gave her comfort as her skin burned and she turned to ash.

She didn't live long enough to hear his heartbreaking cries of anguish, or to see him slump to the floor in defeat. She didn't live long enough to hear him scream her name until his throat was hoarse and bleeding. She didn't live long enough, and she would have been glad.

Her whole life, she had longed to feel the sun upon her face, to feel the warmth and glow that Lucian had spoken so often of. And, if she could have, she would have smiled that she had finally gotten her wish.


End file.
